In the land of blood and apples
by athenades87
Summary: What happens when the tables are turned and a thief becomes the prey? AU FTL. Swan Queen end game fic.
1. Chapter 1

**This would be my first AU FLT SQ story...I'm kinda nervous and excited at the same time. This came to me whilst driving home from work. I love my brain sometimes.** **I am hoping this to be a rather lengthly SQ endgame story, so I hope my readers stick around.**

**Don't own em. Wish I did! **

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><p>The night was stoic still as she weaved in and out of the perfectly aligned apples trees. Slowly and methodically picking them and placing them into a basket she hoisted on her forearm. To say these apples were pristine would be an understatement for these were no ordinary apples, placed on no ordinary trees. No, these apples were the queens, which so happened to be on royal ground. So with every apple she plucked she felt a sense of guilt, fore it was illegal to steal from the queens personal stock, but desperate times called for desperate measures especially in a land ruled by the evil queen.<p>

The ground was soft but unyielding underneath her booted feet. However, do to years of training in the art stealth, she really held no fear of being caught. In addition the guilty feeling was only fleeting, for the apples were needed to feed the starving village she belonged to. As she continued to weave in out of the rows plucking the pregnant fruit from the majestic branches, she was taken over with a sense of nostalgia. A longing for yesteryear, dreaming of times that were long forgotten. When the land was filled with laughter and mirth.

The thief let out a heavy sigh and her breath misted in the chilly night air, her mind began to wander back to when King Leopold ruled the land. When huntsmen were used for exactly that to go hunt game and help the people of the village and when taxes were low. An angry sigh followed the contented one as she remembered just a fortnight ago when the huntsmen came to her village to round up all males from 13 to 99 to fight in the Queen's war and collect her taxes. Lost in her memories of days of old and current events, the thief was unaware of her surroundings and how close she was to the castle walls.

Jerking her from her thoughts she heard a voice bark, "What do we have here?" A strong forearm was then pressed against the tender flesh of her throat.

"Stealing the Queen's apples, I see?" said the gravely voice. "Ye are aware this is punishable by death?"

The thief could barely nod as she was chastising herself for being so careless. The apples were taken from her and her hands were thrust behind her back and bound with a course rope. A burlap sack was yanked over her head as she was forced to march towards the castle's drawbridge. The thief took stock of her situation and realized that a means of escape was in vain. She could hear at least 6 sets of feet walking her toward the castle and the sound of bow and arrows clinging in the night air. She knew death was upon her, this was her fate and she must embrace the futility of her situation head on and with out a fight.

As the hunting party approached the drawbridge with their prey, the smells of the moat wafted up. She knew this was the moment and her senses were on high alert. The sounds of heavy footsteps across the heavy wooden bridge muted her dainty ones. The smell of human excrement hung heavy in the air, as they were midway across the bridge. The sullen voices from the villagers were heard with in. When they took notice of the party a dim hum hung in the air. The lighted torches played havoc with her hooded eyes. No matter where she turned dark shadows played with her senses. The crowd began to murmur, "I wonder who it is?"

"The poor sap." She heard, but then turned a deaf ear to the crowd for their words of sympathy were not going to assist her when she was in dire straights.

The huntsmen forced her to move forward from the outer courtyard to the interior courtyard. The air within hung with the scent of death. Coldness began to ebb through the thief's body. For everyone of the land knew the interior courtyard was only used for one thing. An early demise of some poor unfortunate soul who happen to cross the Queen in an adverse way. The punishment was swift and without regard to any protest from the crowd that was forced to watch. Her breathing became labored and this was the only sign that she was indeed in stress. She stumbled a cross the uneven cobblestones and with her hands tied behind her back, there was nothing to aide her stumble nor break her fall. The coldness from the stone embraced her check through the burlap hood without prejudice.

"On your feet, thief!" the huntsman bellowed from behind her, then she was roughly brought to her feet and forced to march forward.

So march she did, fear heaving every step she took, but she trudged forward. But in that moment of eminent death she was not thinking of her dissolution. She was acutely aware of the children of the village that became reliant upon her. She remembered fondly of how their faces would light up with joy, when she would return with her sack laden down with goods. Those were the thoughts she wanted to remember, the last thoughts that would run across her mind. Her shin banged soundly against the wooden step that led up to the execution stand. It was placed in the middle of the courtyard so that no one could hide from the sight of someone one losing his or her life. A muffled cry escaped her tightly shut lips but she regained her composure as she headed up the wooden steps. The thud of the boots against the wood, compared lightly to the heavy thudding of her heart against her chest.

The thief came to a stop atop the platform, the courtyard was silent, but she heard the sound of distance heels clicking against the gobble stone, the sound approached rapidly and abruptly stopped before the wooden platform.

"Death due to the order of the Queen. No person shall steal from the Queen. If said person is caught then death is the final judgment, may God have mercy upon your soul." A huntsman said from beside her. The thief thought frantically, this is not how it was supposed to end. There was a destiny plotted out for her. She had people that relied upon her. She was pushed down upon her knees, the wooden slates bite into her them and the scent of death was heavier upon the platform. Her head was smashed onto a wooden slab and the back of the burlap sack being to raised ever so slightly giving the executioner a clear path to sever her head from her shoulders. The sound of the blade being sharpen against the grinding stone could be heard and the sound twisted the thief's stomach into knots and then the heavy footsteps of a well-muscled man approaching her. There was a collective gasp from the crowd. The thief could only assume it was due to the fact that the ax was raised in the air.

"My queen do you have any words for this putrid scum, before I carry out the sentence?" The executioner spoke cowardly.

The darkest of angelic voice's rang throw the air without hesitation, "Let me see the face of this thief, I want to see the light leave their eyes."

A burly man stepped up to the thief and grab her the shoulders jerking her back, whilst jerking the burlap sack of the thief's head. A messy main of golden blonde hair spewed across the wooden block and over the thief's face.

"Let me see her face!" The queen bellowed.

The hunts slapped the hair out of the thief's face reveling a set of sovereign green eyes, that once connected with the devilish brown of the queens, caused the queen to catch the breath in her throat and her stomach to flutter.

Distracted by the thief's piercing eyes, the queen never noticed the executioner raising his blade in the air, nor the sound it made as it sliced through the night air.

TBC

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><p><strong>Well tell me what you think! I really appreciate the feed back. It helps so much! <strong>

**Thanks for reading! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow! I am extremely happy by the response I got from this! SQ is such a big fandom and I hold no comparison to some of the writers, but it still makes me feel good to get ****recognition. So I think each and every one of you. **

**Here is chapter two, I do hope you all enjoy it.**

**Dont own em! **

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><p>The blade stopped only inches from the thief's neck. The queen's hand was out stretched, but her gaze remand locked with the person on the chopping block. The axe flew into the air and landed with an audible thud against the castle wall.<p>

Still with a locking gaze on the thief the queen spoke.

"Am I mistaken or am I still ruler of this land?" The words dripped like poison from her lips.

"Y-yes your majesty." The executioner stuttered.

The queen quirked her brow, "Yes what you fool. That I'm mistaken, or indeed ruler of this land?"

"R-ruler of this land." The executioner stuttered again.

"Then correct me if I'm wrong." Finally she was able to tear her eyes away from the emerald green of the thief. "Did I tell you to continue out the sentence?"

"N-no." The executioner spoke swiftly.

"No what?" The queen hissed.

"N-n-no y-y-our majesty."

"Ah, well then." The queen clasped her hands together, "Instead of this fool dying today, it shall be you, whom shall take her place, for pure idiocy."

The town's people gasped with a shocked kind of horror. No one had ever received clemency. This was a horrid turn of events, as the crowd watched their beloved Emma being led down the wood stairs with her head still in tact. A couple of curious onlookers had their eyes fixated upon the executioner as he was lowered to his knees and beheaded with swift justice. However the majority of the town watched as Emma was forced to stand before the Queen. You could hear a pin drop, as there seemed to be a silent battle between the two. The air was motionless as unspoken conversation passed between their eyes. Finally the Queen broke contact once again and turned to her head huntsman. "Graham, take this insipid creature to my inner chamber. I will be there in a moment."

The Queen turned her steely gaze upon the crowd and slowly approached a small child about the age of 7 and ran her fingers through his unruly brown hair. The crowd was unaware of the Queen's actions, because they were transfixed on Emma as she was drug way into the inner castle. The fear was rolling off the crowd in waves and was intensified as the Queen cough a little and stated in a loud firm voice "Don't be fooled, you ingrates. I have prepared a fate worse than death for your beloved thief. For you cannot fool me, I can see the concern and what is that sickening word. Ah, yes, love in your eyes." Without a glance back the Queen stormed off to speak to the creature with the green eyes in her chamber.

Emma stood in a round room that was gray stone and not a touch of warmth was anywhere. Her mind began to wander to why the Queen felt it was necessary to save her. Fore she knew deep down that is what had happened. The Queen had never stopped an execution before, was her fate worse than death? Or was the Queen having a moment of clarity and decided that death and destruction was not the route to take anymore? Emma turned and took stock of the room and saw once again there was no means of escape. In one wall was the heavy oak door, in which she entered, on another wall was a curtain less window that overlooked the kingdom. On the wall behind her was a black door with spikes and the appearance of the door was enough to deter her from going in that direction. Emma decided to stand in the middle of the room and gaze into the mirror that was looking back at her.

"I will meet my fate here and I will die with honor." she said out loud. Unbeknownst to her the Queen was in another chamber watching her through that very mirror. An evil smile spread a crossed her face and she began to pace. The feelings that she was feeling were foreign to her. What power this creature held was unimaginable. Normally she did not blink an eyelash at the thought of someone losing his or her head. With a flick of her wrist she was standing outside the heavy oak door and within moments she entered the room. Emma jumped with a start for she did not even hear the door open and there in front of her stood the Queen. "Your Majesty" Emma stated as she bowed at the waist.

"What is your name?" the Queen demanded.

"My people call me Emma" she did not hesitate with her answer.

"Where do you reside" she responded with snarl.

"No, I will not divulge that information. You will not retaliate upon my people." Emma stated.

Inwardly the Queen was impressed. But outwardly a storm of rage crossed her face. Very few have refused her questions and the ones that have no longer alive to say they have gotten away with it.

"I will ask one more time peasant. Where are you from? Where do you call home?" She demanded

"I will not answer you. Your question is not worthy of answer. My crime is mine alone and you will not punish the innocence's for what I have done." Emma practically cried.

"Fine, if that is how you see to handle this matter then so be it, but denying me the answers I seek will not keep me from getting them." The queen stepped forward a few paces, something told her to get closer to this captivatingly green eyed creature. "Do you understand?" She spoke with an eerie softness.

Emma knotted "Yes, your majesty."

The Queen sized Emma up once again before turning towards the door where Graham seemed to magically appear. "Graham take Emma to the Northern tower." The queen looked over her shoulder and eyed Emma once more, "There she shall remain until my questions are answered. No matter how long it takes."

Graham took Emma by the arm and led her out of the queen's chamber.

"Is she going to kill me?" Emma asked.

"Not right away." Graham spoke softly.

"Your not like the other huntsman, why?"

Graham didn't speak, he knew better than to continue answering her questions. They arrived at the Northern tower shortly there after, Graham took a key and unlocked the door, surprisingly he didn't shove her in, like the others would have done, he simply untied her and let her walk in on her own accord. Emma walked in and slowly assessed the room. A small coy took purchase in the right corner and not far from it, a rather discussing latrine; she turned around to face the huntsman.

"What she is going to do with me." She asked hopefully.

Graham signed, "Listen M'lady, if you wish to live to see tomorrow night, I would suggest you do everything you're told," With that Graham shut and locked the room door, leaving Emma alone in the dark she turned around and slowly walked to the only bar cover window in the room had to offer, the moon was bright and it seemed to light the land as if it were the sun itself, Emma marveled at its greatness but then her eyes cause a sight she would never forget, her room it just so happened over looked the apple orchard and the sight made her stomach churn.

The irony of it all.

TBC

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><p><strong>Well what did you think? Please let me know! :))))<strong>


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